


Cut Fingers and Braids

by littlebrownshoe (Wolfy_Tales)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Erebor Quest and after, Hinted/pre-slash, M/M, alternating pov, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5507282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfy_Tales/pseuds/littlebrownshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nori thought that Bofur was just a pest with a persistent grin. But that was before they bonded over lost fingers and braids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut Fingers and Braids

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.

 

_A Bofur/Nori one-shot about loss and moving past it._

 

 

Nori flexed his fingers, wincing as the action brought a burst of hurt and satisfaction. As gratifying as it was to be out of the Blue Mountains and riding, Nori forgot to cull his bad habit of holding the reigns too tight. The wilderness was freedom, but also paranoia-inducing with all its numerous little dangers.

It made the dwarf funnel his frustration at how loud everyone chatted during their grudgingly slow pace to his grip on the leather straps. Nori hadn't realized the stiffness he'd created until they were unpacking for camp, and hadn't had a moment of peace alone until now to stretch them.

“ _Mahal wept_ , what happened to your fingers?!”

The middle Ri brother jerked at the voice, thinking it was that loud older Ur brother. When he turned his auburn head and looked to the swinging braids, Nori wasn't disappointed. Unlike his usual jovial expression, there was a prominent furrow in Bofur's brow that his fringe and hat did nothing to hide.

“Just results from careless youth,” Nori said with a shrug, flexing all eight of his fingers again.

The two loses were both on his left hand. He had lost his pinkie as a result of an infectious knife cut from a fight in his youth; Dori had been the one to chop it off with his chef's knife before it spread to his entire hand. His ring finger he had been chopped off by a guard not as courteous as Dwalin. While the tall dwarf was rough and his punches hurt like hell, he was a tad more lenient in discipline than some of the other dwarves.

“I didn't know we did that in the Blue Mountains,” Bofur said in a whisper as he sat beside Nori on the log of his choice. “I thought it was something left behind in Erebor, considering we couldn't really afford to go against each other with so few of us about.”

“It was never officially dispelled,” Nori said, frowning at the other dwarf's brazen closeness. Really, he only allowed his baby brother to get this close without asking first. If Nori wanted to sit so close to another, _he_ would initiate it.

“Sorta wondered why Ori knitted a pair of full-fingered gloves for you when it's obvious he favors the half-fingered sort of style,” Bofur continued to say, the annoyance in his face transformed into a smile. Even his braids seemed to curl up more in glee. “Now at least that puzzle is figured.”

Nori frowned, and realized he hadn't thought of it like that. He knew Ori wasn't ashamed of Nori's life, as he never tried to brush the subject aside like Dori, but he had never realized his baby brother was so capable of small acts of kindness. He always seemed much too busy in his books and sketches. Still, it was nice to have his fingers concealed so not just any passing dwarf could judge him by his past actions.

“You're lucky to have a younger brother like that,” Bofur said with a nod.

Nori looked over to the fire, to where Bombur was already dead-asleep to the world and all its threats. It seemed he have managed to get out his bed-roll, but not his blanket or hood.

“Yeah,” Bofur said with a sigh before standing up and going the way Nori's focus had wandered.

Nori watched as Bofur quietly (not that there was any point with Bombur's loud snores) groped around in the near-dark for a moment. He presented a blanket, and carefully put it over his younger brother. Nori continued to watch Bofur as he moved to sit next to the hobbit, who clearly welcomed the dwarf's presence unlike Nori had.

.

Bofur was first terrified of the river itself, with the white rapids and sharp rocks. His heartbeat only accelerated when arrows began raining down on them. Of the one that found its mark in Kili's leg; of the ones imbedded in his barrel he noticed only when they stumbled ashore.

Then the dwarf was scared over his brothers, although he first clapped Bombur on the back in congratulations for not being a totally useless little brother. After that it was with Bilbo, of remembering how he didn't even have a barrel. He was the smallest, the weakest, but he'd shown his ingenuity and bravery in getting them out without too much trouble.

Then it was a blur of movement, of shivering and listening as Balin tried to work his tongue as easily as a sword in his hands. Next thing Bofur knew: they were sitting in a rotting house atop a lake. Eating stale bread well masked through toasting it, with musty-smelling blankets around their hunched shoulders.

There was a fire, but the only one with enough care for it was the middle Ri brother. He had his fingers out, and Bofur looked at the stumps were two fingers had once been.

Bofur narrowed his eyes, and saw in fright that the remaining fingers looked white even in the golden light of the fire. Finding some sort of resolve and strength to get up, Bofur patted Bilbo on his shoulder (the hobbit answered with a nod and sniff, poor sick creature) and went to sit beside Nori.

The other dwarf gave him a sidelong look that spoke better than words, and was none-too-gentle. Still, Bofur had grown up with a fussy Bombur. He could deal with a prideful dwarf.

“For having such sly hands, it seems they clench up mighty bad in the cold.”

Nori took his eyes away from Bofur then, the deep brown lighter with the fire and his pupils retracted. Bofur remembered how his Ma always chided him how it was impolite to stare too long, even if it was something beautiful, so the dwarf looked back to the fire. That was safe. That was allowed.

“Maybe we can find a rock, heat it in the fire, let you hold it,” Bofur mumbled. “I did that for my hands when I worked in the mines.”

“Do you ever allow silence in your presence?” Nori snapped.

Bofur glanced back up, and wished Nori hadn't fixed his intricate braids. It would be easier to face him then. But Nori had been the first to comb and restructure his hair. Dori had been a close second, while Bofur hadn't cared about his own braids until after dinner.

“I just want to help,” Bofur said honestly.

Nori studied him again, and Bofur looked away again.

They sat in silence for some long minutes, and finally Bofur stood and left. He saw Nori's shoulders relax, and once again tense when Bofur returned. Only this time he held two cups of tea he'd been able to swindle Sigrid into making them.

“It's not ale, but it'll help your hands while holding it at least,” Bofur said as he offered one of the ceramic mugs.

Nori looked at the cup, of the simple un-glazed surface, of the chips in the handle; still, Bofur supposed Nori had learned long ago that beggars can't be choosers. He took the mug, and Bofur watched as eight stiff fingers wrapped around the surface and began to color.

.

Nori really shouldn't be here. He had stab wounds in his left side, three broken fingers, and was still coated in black blood. The least he could do was take a bath. But he'd already visited everyone he could, and this was the last person of the company for him to check on.

And while this Ri brother may be a thief, he was no coward. He took a shallow, sharp breath of anticipation before pulling aside the canvas flap of tent's entrance and stepping inside.

Bombur and Bifur were both blessedly asleep, but the one Nori had come to see- and there Bofur was. Sitting and knitting one of the patterns Ori had taught him on the quest in their rare free time. He looked alright, but-

“Your braid,” Nori said as he sat at the chair beside Bofur's bed.

The dwarf looked up at that, and said with a crooked smile and puff of laughter: “Shame, I know.”

Nori watched, fingers twitching, as Bofur pulled at the puff of hair on the right side of his head that used to act as a brother to the braid on his left.

“I know I should cut off the other one, but I just can't stand to lose it yet.”

Nori stared, not caring about manners, and thought. Then he took out one of his many knives, this one from his sleeve, and moved forward to stand over the other dwarf.

Bofur's eyes widened, and he shuffled as far away on the cot as he could manage.

“Let me at least trim it,” Nori advised. “And who says you should cut it off? You can be the first dwarf with an asymmetrical style.”

“Maybe if I had my hat it would be better,” Bofur says dejectedly. “I could at least hide it.”

“Unlike with your cut hair, that I can return to your person.”

Nori bit the inside of his mouth to hide his mirth while Bofur searched all over his person with his eyes. Nori had concealed elvish candle-holders in his bulky clothes before; Bofur should know that if Nori wanted something hidden it would stay like that.

“I'll give it to you after attending to your hair.”

Bofur was oddly quiet as he nodded, and shuffled back to the middle of his straw mattress. Nori didn't return to the chair, but sat at the side of the bed for easier access. It made Nori think of how Bofur unabashedly sat closer that this many times before. As if he'd said it aloud, Bofur scooted unnecessarily closer.

“Go on, do your worst,” Bofur sighed in utter dejection.

“At least it wasn't your mustache,” Nori said, tugging at one of the upturned tuffs of rough hair in rebellion.

Bofur laughed loud, eyes bright as he turned his face close to Nori. Who in turn grabbed Bofur's chin and jerked his face away. It was obviously to have a better gaze at the lost braid, and not to get away from those bright eyes in this dark tent of healing.

Bofur was amazingly well-behaved and only hummed after that, letting Nori work in peace. True enough, the sudden cut of the braid made the hairs uneven. Nori took barely an inch more off to bring order to the sheering. Still, it would be some time before Bofur could cut his hair to a matching, satisfying length. Maybe he should change his hat in for one with a longer back, to hide his problem until it grew back.

“Tell it to me honest,” Bofur said as Nori finally lowered his sharp little blade. “Will I live?”

“A blade to the hair is nothing in comparison to a blade to the body,” Nori said offhandedly.

Both winced at the callous statement Nori had just made of their fallen king. Their friend in a position he had awaited his whole life, cut down still in his fledgling post. The company had followed him out into battle, but only his nephews had managed to tail Thorin until the very end in every sense.

When Nori handed over Bofur's hat, Bofur frowned at the lost flap that had been cut with his braid. Nori huffed (because how was this doofus an older brother) before offering the lost piece for Bofur to reattach.

.

The mountain was calm despite the bustle of dwarves returning. The winter was not unbearably cold, especially with the fervor the dwarves in their returned home. They had the forges on at a near constant to work and heat the mountain.

Bofur always found time to reconnect with friends, but he enjoyed his time to think as well. Of sitting in quiet before the fireplace with only a knife and some wood, Bifur every now and then walking by and grunting in approval of Bofur's newest trinket.

So it was more than a little surprising when Bofur went to visit the market, and Nori slunk out to walk by his side. He alerted Bofur of his presence with two fingers below his ribs, angled up so that if it was a knife it'd be imbedded in Bofur's heart.

Bofur had only seen the Ri brother at full-company meetings to drink in merriment or melancholy. Bofur hadn't made a point to single Nori out, not that Bofur minded. He had his returned hat, and the stumpy-braid that was finally beginning to grow in earnest again.

Still, Bofur didn't expect his quiet market adventure to get interrupted. Not that the company was unwelcome.

“ _Bloody_ \- you scared the near shit out of me,” Bofur exclaimed, wondering just what potential danger his heart was beating so fast from. The threat on his life, or the threat Nori had on his thoughts.

Nori shrugged, and quirked an eyebrow as if it was a respectable way to greet a friend. His hair had grown even faster than Bofur's, and nearly everyone's eyes trailed behind the Ri brother. Ori may be cute, and Dori unattainable in his standards, but Nori was the crowd pleaser.

The two walked in silence, Nori not explaining his presence while Bofur went through his mundane shopping list. Tea for Bifur, some fancy spices for Bombur. Bofur gave into temptation and bought some pastries, handing over a sticky-bun to Nori who shoved the entire thing in his mouth. Bofur laughed and clapped.

Eventually Bofur was tired of jostling elbows and shoulders with others, so he pulled on Nori's arm to get them to sit by a fountain. Both their eyes moved to follow a couple children running by. It was surreal to have their home thought forever lost back.

“Do you miss him?”

“I miss all three of them every day,” Bofur answered, turning away from the giggle dwarflings to Nori, who was studying his boots rather than the dwarf he'd questioned.

“No- the halfling. The one you were so close to,” Nori said, oddly enough fiddling with his gloves.

Bofur studied Nori, and realized in awe and apprehension that the dwarf was nervous over something. Bofur's answer? That didn't make much sense.

“He was my best friend, yes,” Bofur answered honestly. “I do miss him, but he's not the same with a broken heart. Call me a coward, but I can't make him feel better of that when I myself have never experienced such pain.”

Nori opened his mouth, and then closed it with a click of meeting teeth.

Bofur opened his, to try and understand what this situation was all about, but then Nori stood and walked away without one glance back. But the dwarf wasn't worried, because as mysterious as Nori was, Bofur knew he'd always come back.

 

 

FIN

 

 


End file.
